


Homecoming

by dracoqueen22



Series: Fidelis [3]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, M/M, Plug and Play, Season/Series 02, Spoilers, Tactile, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:32:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreadwing returns to the Nemesis, to Lord Megatron, and to the mech he left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

He found Soundwave's quarters with ease, situated as they were in close proximity to the bridge. Hesitation, however, struck, the moment he stood in front of the silent door.

Would he be welcomed? Would he be treated to a stony silence? It had been vorns since he had laid optics on his once-lover. Perhaps too long had passed.

The ache in his spark, the emptiness where Skyquake used to be, that was his encouragement. This war, it was not going to end anytime soon. No matter how thoroughly Dreadwing dedicated himself to the Decepticon cause, he had to admit such to himself. Optimus Prime was not so easily defeated and Megatron would never surrender.

Intake rattling through his vents, Dreadwing pinged the door for entry. It slid open without delay or an answering ping. That was a good sign.

Dreadwing stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him.

Soundwave's quarters were barren, as he would have expected, one wall a solid bank of monitors and an over-large access to the Nemesis' mainframe. Always working, even when he was supposed to be off-duty or resting. Dreadwing could not be surprised.

There was a berth, entirely utilitarian, and a door on the far side which probably led to a private washracks. Soundwave was of a rank that he deserved one. A pair of tiny recharge berths were set upon another table for his symbiotes, when they weren't keyed into his own systems, but that was the extent of the furniture.

There were no decorations, no pic-frames of friends or kin. The detritus of a soldier's room – spare ammo and the like – were also missing. It could have been uninhabited for all that was present.

Save for the fact that it wasn't. Soundwave himself was standing at the massive computer, long, elegant fingers dancing over the console. He did not look up, nor acknowledge Dreadwing's arrival, though the fact he'd opened the door proved he knew the Seeker was present.

Silence swept the air between them, save for Soundwave's typing and the hum of their systems. He couldn't say if it was awkward, expectant, or simply the inevitable result of vorns of separation.

Soundwave was... different. In more ways than the physical. Yes, his appearance had changed. The slim, elegant Soundwave before him scarcely resembled the bulky, carrier-mech that had once fought Megatron to a standstill.

Dreadwing knew, of course, why that was.

A carrier mech bearing two symbiotes would always be smaller in frame than one who had once carried upward of ten cassettes. Soundwave had obviously chosen to rebuild himself into a lighter, recon frame as opposed to filling the open slots on his chassis. He always had been more attached to his cassettes than the average carrier.

Dreadwing lamented that he had not been there to witness Soundwave's rebuild. That he had only learned of it through hearsay and Decepticon chatter. He should have been there, at his partner's side, through the grief and the mourning, as well as through the painful rebuild.

But he had not been and such was his offense. That it was not entirely by choice was no excuse.

Soundwave had yet to broach the silence, leaving Dreadwing the only option to speak though words seemed insufficient to bridge the gap between them.

"Congratulations," Dreadwing said, hoping that this line of conversation was appropriately neutral. "I was informed that Lord Megatron promoted you after the attack on Kalryx VII. The position suits you well."

Nothing. Not so much as a pause in his work nor a tilt of his helm.

Dreadwing drew in a heavy ventilation. It had been much easier, earlier, when he had reported himself to Lord Megatron and Soundwave had been there, silent and unobtrusive. Dreadwing could pretend that there was nothing between himself and Soundwave, give his attention fully to Lord Megatron. There was also the added distraction of learning the particulars behind Skyquake's death.

But now... This was not so easy. Words would not come and the awkward tension only grew. He wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps it would be wiser to take his losses and leave.

There was no tactful way to comment on Soundwave's rebuild so Dreadwing opted to ignore mentioning it altogether.

"I will remain upon the Nemesis," Dreadwing continued, his optics tracking the play of light on Soundwave's glossy armor. "We Decepticons, we _Cybertronians_ , are so few now that it would be reckless of me to do otherwise."

He had completed his mission for the most part. The Wrecker unit he and his team had tracked was either deactivated or scattered to the distant sectors of the universe. Whatever mission the Prime had given them would remain unrealized.

Yet, Soundwave once again gave him nothing.

Dreadwing crossed his arms over his chassis, optics locked on Soundwave's dorsa. "I'd ask if you missed me, but I know how pointless that is."

Plating shifted as Soundwave went rigid. He said nothing, unsurprising, but also gave no further indication that he wished for Dreadwing to stay.

Unfolding his arms, Dreadwing rubbed a palm down his faceplate. "I suppose that is all the answer I need." Unfortunate, but also not unexpected. Sometimes, time only worsened wounds, rather than healing them.

He dropped his hand and turned to go, albeit reluctantly. He had already lost his brother, his only kin. This was another failure he didn't wish to carry.

Something wrapped around his carpal joint.

Dreadwing paused, looking down at the slim cable wrapped around his wrist, not tight enough to be constrictive, but firm enough to keep him from leaving. The cable was warm, emanating a light pulse of charge that flickered over the complicated mechanisms of his servo.

He shifted, angling his frame so that he could see Soundwave, but the carrier mech still had his dorsa facing Dreadwing. He was not looking, but his long-digit servos had curled into fists at his sides.

Dreadwing lowered his helm, considering. His free servo reached for the data cable, tracing a digit over the thin, flexible plating.

"Lord Megatron has yet to assign me quarters," Dreadwing said, careful to keep his tones neutral, letting his touches speak for themselves. Offering. Requesting.

The cable squeezed his carpus in acceptance. Behind him, the door to Soundwave's quarters lock with a quiet click.

Dreadwing's helm tilted upward. "Are you offering your berth to me?"

The soft sound of a transformation filled the room as Laserbeak disengaged from Soundwave's chassis. Dreadwing watched the small cassette flit around the room before landing on his shoulder, helm nuzzling against Dreadwing's affectionately. So the little one remembered him at least.

Light smile curving his lipplate, Dreadwing lifted his free servo and scratched the underside of Laserbeak's mandible, knowing there to be a small sensor nexus there. The cassette had always enjoyed such caresses long ago and Dreadwing assumed the same to be true now.

He was right. A purr raced across Laserbeak's frame, systems humming their approval. Thin, nearly frail wings flicked through the air as Laserbeak rubbed his helm against Dreadwing's, seeking more pets. Needy little creature.

Ravage must be out, Dreadwing assumed. The dock on Soundwave's dorsa was empty at present.

"Am I forgiven?" Dreadwing asked, barely above subvoc.

The cable encircling his carpus rippled with charge, a teasing buzz against his components. It tugged at his servo in open invitation.

Ah. Perhaps there was nothing to forgive. Their loyalty had always been absolute, both to themselves, to the Decepticon cause, and to each other.

Emboldened, Dreadwing closed the short paces between himself and Soundwave, until the furthest swell of his cockpit brushed the empty dock on Soundwave's dorsa. His free servo settled on Soundwave's shoulder, warm plating trembling beneath his palm. Dreadwing's spark skipped a pulse and he lowered his helm, the length of one cornet brushing along Soundwave's audial horn.

This close, he could detect the faintest scent of some foreign polish, perhaps organic at its base. He could see the flickers of static dancing on Soundwave's armor and he felt the careful unfurling of Soundwave's energy field, dancing along the edge of his own.

Laserbeak chirred in approval.

A chuckle threatened to bubble out of Dreadwing's vocalizer.

"Are you going to join me?" he asked, careful to pitch his vocals at the perfect frequency to resonate in Soundwave's audials. He tilted his helm, taking one of the tapered horns into his mouth, glossa flicking over the pointed tip. "Or are you too busy?"

Soundwave's energy field flickered and Laserbeak chirped, alighting from Dreadwing's shoulder. He kept a sensor on the cassette, which didn't return to Soundwave's ventral port, instead choosing to perch on one of the pipes running parallel to the ceiling. Out of the way, how convenient.

The cable around Dreadwing's carpus coiled further, climbing up the length of his arm as though keeping him from leaving. It was all the answer Dreadwing needed, further proven by the way Soundwave angled himself closer to Dreadwing, turning his attention away from the Nemesis console entirely. Plating brushed against plating, static charge lighting the distance between them in bright flashes of pale purple, mimicking the energy lines winding across Soundwave's frame.

Dreadwing wanted to trace them, these unfamiliar lines not present in Soundwave's previous build. He wanted to follow their paths with his digits and his glossa, see if they felt or tasted different. See if the charge would dance along his glossa. He shivered at the thought, free servo dropping from Soundwave's shoulder to his narrow central base.

His servo easily encircled Soundwave's base, his thumb brushing Soundwave's backstrut just above his aft plate. This build was so strange to Dreadwing, but his processor whirred at the thought of exploring it, coming to learn all the little sensitive nodes and circuits. Yes, this build was smaller and lighter than his gladiator's frame, but Dreadwing was quite certain that Soundwave was no less dangerous for it.

He wanted to see it, see the once-gladiator in action. Perhaps he would get his chance, now that he was on Earth.

"Lord Megatron is lucky to have had you by his side," Dreadwing murmured and pressed himself against Soundwave, the curve of his cockpit nestled firmly within Soundwave's empty dock. An imperceptible tremor raced through Soundwave's frame, his energy field wavery with encumbered need.

Soundwave's visor hummed, a staticky sound of a recorded voiceclip emerging from his visored face. _"My mission, assigned to me by my one master, Lord Megatron."_

The underhanded gall! To use Dreadwing's own twin's words against him!

"I've not forgotten," Dreadwing retorted, torn between amusement and affection. He nuzzled against Soundwave's helm once more, charge crackling from Soundwave's antennae and tickling over his faceplate. "Connect with me?"

Soundwave's frame hummed with rising charge, heat unfurling from his plating to the same pulse as his eager energy field. His port irised open, connectors sparking with white charge.

Dreadwing felt like a clumsy oaf as he hastily unspooled his own cable, already hot to the touch, and connected himself to Soundwave's port.

He groaned, hydraulics hissing, sensation throbbing through his systems. Dreadwing shuddered, drawing in a shaky ventilation.

Soundwave's emotions were a searing flash across his circuits, a blistering mishmash of need and desire and white-hot pleasure. Dreadwing's spark throbbed in response, his captured servo pulling into a shaky fist.

By the Allspark, he'd forgotten how intense an interface with Soundwave could be. And he hadn't even completed the feedback loop yet! Just Soundwave's emotions, the pleasure passed along, was enough to make his cooling fans kick on with a loud roar.

Dreadwing curled his free arm around Soundwave's chassis, pulling the communications mech closer, until they were pressed plating to plating. He laid his helm against Soundwave's and was rewarded with the complete submission of Soundwave against him. No longer tense or holding himself apart.

" _Loyalty such as yours is a rare commodity_." Again, the staticky quotation of some mech announced Soundwave's intentions.

A secondary data cable unfurled from Soundwave's chassis and Dreadwing hastily triggered his own interface port to spiral open. His energy field rose and fell, tangling with Soundwave's, syncing effortlessly. As though the vorns they had spent apart were only mere joors.

Soundwave's cable tightened around Dreadwing's arm, and then pulled it around, so that he was fully embracing the carrier mech. He guided Dreadwing's servo to his chassis, just above his concealed spark chamber, prompting his digits to rest on the upper edge of his chestplate. With a twitch of his digits, Dreadwing caressed the carefully guarded cables beneath, invoking a shiver from his partner.

Only then did Soundwave release his interface cable and plug into Dreadwing's port, connection firmly established, and Dreadwing's own emotions poured into Soundwave's systems.

They shuddered in unison.

Soundwave's second data cable whipped backward, choosing to wind around Dreadwing's leg, charge sparking along the entire length of it. The static snapped against Dreadwing's armor, danced beneath his plating, rode along the heated lines of his circuits and cascading pleasure in its wake.

"Primus," he groaned, hydraulics loosening once more, his optics snapping offline.

Heat surged across the connection, pinging back and forth between himself and Soundwave. Pleasure unfurled in their energy fields, already closely woven, and rose in cresting waves.

Soundwave's desire crashed over Dreadwing like a physical blow. There was knowledge there as well, that Soundwave had not been celibate in Dreadwing's absence, and for Dreadwing it was the same. But it did not matter. Exclusivity had never been expected from either of them.

What did matter was here and now and the connection between them. The scent of hot metal filled the room and more important was the feel of Soundwave in his arms, writhing under the onslaught of sensation. He came alive under pleasure, electricity dancing across his armor in leaps and bursts, his data cables squeezing and unsqueezing where they wrapped around Dreadwing's arm and leg.

Soundwave's servos clenched and unclenched, his helm pushing back against Dreadwing's. He had no doubt that the carrier mech's faceplate was a flurry of static, and not for the first time he wished that Soundwave hadn't disabled his vocalizer. He missed the sounds of his lover's pleasure, the warbled moans and half-glitched phrases.

Dreadwing twitched his digits, teasing against the sensitive components buried behind Soundwave's thoracic plate. He could feel electric snaps pulsing against his digits, carrying into the substructure of his own plating, alighting his circuits. Soundwave's pleasure spiraled across the link, searing through Dreadwing's sensor net and whiting out his processor.

Overload came with all the force of a lightning strike. Dreadwing all but roared, clutching Soundwave tightly as waves and waves of pleasure rippled through his systems. Charge leapt from his circuits, attacking the slimmer mech in his arms, pulsing across the cable connecting them.

Soundwave writhed, ventilations open wide, overload radiating through his frame in varying waves. Dreadwing felt him tip over the edge and watched the carrier mech surrender himself to the pleasure.

A burst of garbled noise erupted from Soundwave's facemask, his cables constricting tight enough to dent, though the pain itself was buried in the pleasure. Dreadwing shuddered, mouthing a pointed audial, and patiently waited for the overload tremors to pass, his own systems still raw and sensitive.

"Primus," Dreadwing murmured, digits lightly dragging across the edge of Soundwave's chestplate, brushing over components behind the ridge of his armor. "I have missed you."

Missed this. Missed everything, truth be told.

A hum rippled through Soundwave's systems, one that Dreadwing took to be agreement. Especially when a cable unwound from Dreadwing's leg, but not without a parting caress.

Soundwave squirmed himself free of Dreadwing's arms, though one data cable remained coiled around Dreadwing's carpus. The absence of their proximity left a cold, hollow feeling in Dreadwing's spark. At least until Soundwave gave his arm a tug.

"Is that an invitation?" Dreadwing asked, noting that Soundwave had taken a step toward the utilitarian berth.

Soundwave half-turned, visor flickering as though he had rebooted it. One servo lifted, long digits reaching for Dreadwing's face. A light caress graced his face plating, the barest crackle of charge skipping off Soundwave's digit even as the carrier mech nodded.

Hope swelled, though Dreadwing dared not dwell on it. "For the night?"

Soundwave inclined his helm, his free servo rising to his shoulder, where he tapped pointedly over the Decepticon sigil etched into his armor. Permanent as it was, not paint as many mechs had opted for. Dreadwing's own was a decal, welded into place.

Understanding dawned. "In that, nothing has changed," he agreed.

For the both of them, their loyalty to the Decepticons and Megatron would always come first. But whatever remained could be shared amongst each other, at least, that which wasn't reserved for their kin.

Soundwave nodded once more.

Somewhere above them, Laserbeak chirred, alighting from the high perch to flit briefly around the room. Circling once over Dreadwing's helm, Laserbeak returned to Soundwave's ventral dock, slotting into place with a quiet click.

The berth was built for function and little else. Soundwave's new frame fit easily upon it, but Dreadwing felt awkward, wings refusing to settle properly. He could only lay comfortably on his ventral surface, but that left little room for Soundwave. They compromised, inclining the berth so Dreadwing could rest on his dorsa, Soundwave tidily nestled atop him.

Nestled was the appropriate term, too, because Soundwave's cables had wound themselves back around Dreadwing's frame the moment they settled. One wrapped firmly around Dreadwing's arm, the other coiling about his thigh. It was as though Soundwave were determined to keep Dreadwing from leaving.

Again.

In his defense, Dreadwing's last absence had been through no fault of his own. When Lord Megatron commanded, he obeyed. Such was the order of things.

Dreadwing's servo rested on Soundwave's dorsa, just below Ravage's empty dock, feeling the warm vibrations of Soundwave's armor beneath his palm. The carrier mech's energy field was a quiescent pulse against Dreadwing's own, the edges of their fields knitting together with familiarity restored.

Words danced on Dreadwing's vocalizer but he spoke none of them. Not when Soundwave was already relaxing atop him, cycling down into recharge in Dreadwing's presence. Words seemed redundant.

Dreadwing offlined his optics, releasing a ventilation he hadn't realized he was withholding. It would seem that he had, indeed, been forgiven.

And he had no intention of leaving again. He had lost too much to this war already and Dreadwing sincerely hoped he would not have to choose between his loyalty to Lord Megatron and the loyalty to his spark.

He did not know if he could make that choice again.


End file.
